


Sizeable Differences

by CalmSpirited



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Size Difference, Size Kink, Writing Commission, a hentai amount of cum again, anna is too Pure to appear in this, dwight is just a size queen, evan is an old hardass, jake is a good lil shit friend, meg and nea are daddy trappers #1 lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 19:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmSpirited/pseuds/CalmSpirited
Summary: Dwight can't get everything he wants out of his relationship, but that's okay- because he knows that's all he's going to get.A writing commission for @gurophilia on Twitter ! Sorry this took so long... this really got away from me.





	Sizeable Differences

There were only a few things in the universe that could make Dwight Fairfield  _ drool _ . 

 

Eating pizza before bed is one of them, those shitty soap operas that his mother used to love and made him watch with her as a young child is another, the smell of freshly baked pie that reminded him of his mother _ yet again _ , is a good third-

 

And The Trapper’s _massive_ cock, whether flaccid, hard, or somewhere inbetween, knocked everything else out of the water. Just the sheer size of it, whether seeing it in person or _thinking_ about it for a second too long had him swallowing hard and his stomach muscles twitching unconsciously, disrupting his brain waves from whatever he had been thinking about to hyperfocus on the _biggest dick_ he had ever encountered in his existence.

 

Dwight remembers what first got him interested- or at the very least got him thinking about the Thing- was a _very_ lewd and offhand comment Meg made, back when it was just the four of them huddled for safety and warmth around flames that they all thought at the time were real _(until Nea tried to light a cigarette from the flames and discovered that all she got from it was withdrawal symptoms)._

 

Dwight, even to this day, very clearly remembers the lines of dialogue leading up to the incident:

 

It started out first when Nea came to sit on Meg’s lap for unknown lesbian reasons, he assumed, and slinged her arm around the athlete’s neck, boldly declaring:

 

“So… I just noticed the Trapper’s  _ huge  _ bulge.”

 

Dwight, who had been gnawing on his already abused fingernails, bit down  _ really  _ hard and felt a hangnail split painfully. He saw Claudette out of the corner of his eye wince, dropping the leaves she had been squeezing to bring forth their liquid healing properties to drip on Jake’s cut forearm. A deep red hue bloomed under her spectacles, while Jake looked only mildly shocked and muttered under his breath  _ “I knew I wasn’t the only one.” _

 

Nea laughed soundly, looking the saboteur up and down for a moment before speaking in her slight Swedish accent. “Oh, I’ve bet you’ve done  _ more  _ than just noticed, Park. After you drop all of his hooks, I know he’s gonna want to drop  _ something else-” _

 

Interrupting her, Jake chuckled and shook his head, hair sweeping over his eyes and held his arm out for Claudette to begin tending to, replying with a slight lit of sarcasm and mysticism to his tone of voice: “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

After that, the two girls sitting together broke into loud laughter and chattering, both of them getting up from their seats to plop themselves down to the normally quiet man, unintentionally surrounding a still flustered Claudette in the process, and essentially heckled Jake to elaborate on his supposed  _ “special time”  _ with the Trapper.

 

Dwight wasn’t included in the conversation, for once on his own choice to exclude himself because he was too busy trying to banish the memories of the aforementioned  _ bulge  _ from his mind. He found that after enough wishing of it away, the images abated for a while- until next trial, when he was face-to-... well, chest with the monster with, what Meg dubbed, had a  _ “dick hard enough to mine diamonds”. _

 

And speaking of the runner, she _must’ve_ said something to the monster, because that game did not end as it typically did. Dwight got impaled with something else that wasn’t a hook. It kept happening, too, much to Dwight’s… _delight_ , seemingly every time he went into a trial with Meg or Nea whilst the trap-setter was around until that condition slowly stopped occurring and the meetings of the _impalings_ would happen whether one of the original instigators were there or not.

 

That was the first indication that their meetings were more than just _meetings._ Not that Dwight was particularly interested in a relationship no matter how much of a kicked, touch-starved puppy he looked like-

 

But it just...  _ happened _ . His time spent outside the trials gradually came to include the Trapper, but not overwhelmingly so to keep the newer arrivals in the dark of his illicit affair with a bringer of constant death and torment, though there was  _ no way  _ to keep those he had known the longest in the dark. But it did take them longer than he thought it would for them to notice there was  _ more  _ between them.

 

The first one to notice was Jake, believe or not. Dwight thought that the man was a brick wall when it came to intimacies, but it turned out to be farther than the truth. The leader had accidently stumbled into Jake’s area on his way back from a rendezvous with Evan, which wasn’t uncommon since the man _did_ live in the woods.

 

_ No _ , what was uncommon was that he was humming a familiar lullaby while sipping on a cup of what smelled like tea, divested of his green parka and scarf, leaving him in slack jeans and blue undershirt, lounging backwards against a sturdy little lean-to and wrapped up in a large and colorful quilt that he recognized as one of the many ones that decorated the Huntress’ cabin.

 

“Jake?” He whispered incredulously, not meaning to make any noise at all but the sight in front of him was too much to ignore. He watched as grey-blue eyes swiveled around to meet his, the liquid in his cup nearly spilling over the lid which how fast his head whipped around to meet his- and that’s when Dwight noticed the clearly visible hickeys dotting the lower portion of his neck and a few, blunt scratches down his cheek.

 

He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the shed, but even he knew what  _ that  _ meant. He forgot all about asking him what  _ all of this  _ was, and just went straight to the point. “Are you serious?” He asked, stepping closer and seeing Jake quickly sit up and try to cover his exposed skin so that Dwight couldn’t see the extent of the damage, but it was too late for that. 

 

“What?” Jake tried to deapan and lie his way out of it (Jake was a good liar, Dwight had forgotten and would’ve probably believed whatever he was about to tell him if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes), but Dwight, for once, was one step ahead of somebody.

 

The typically nervous man, now slightly more confident, pointed at the entire scene in a wide sweeping motion. “Like… this!” He exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders up and down while he tried to say what he wanted to say. “You and the Huntress and-”

 

“ _ And? _ ” Sipping on his tea before sitting it down out of harm’s way, Dwight was given the most sarcastic, incredulous look of his life that made him feel quite silly for even making a big deal out of this, especially when Jake’s next statement hit him. “You know  _ who knows  _ about you and the Trapper- and  _ I know  _ that it’s more than that.” 

 

Dwight couldn’t tell if the man was making a wild guess, hoping to imply things correctly or if he was the most unassuming relationship-psychic in the universe, but it all left Dwight’s mouth hanging open in shock. “How-?” He asked haplessly, not sure what to say, but luckily Jake spoke up for him.

 

“When it first started, the Trapper left  _ holes  _ in you from his hickeys. Holes that took stitches from Claudy to heal. But-” Jake paused for a moment to point at Dwight’s neck, which the leader forgot was marked up with his  _ own  _ hickeys. “-now you’re only  _ slightly  _ bleeding. Which shows care and restraint, obviously.”  _ Damn, Dwight hadn’t even thought of it that way himself.  _ But now that the survivalist had said it, it made sense. A lot of sense, actually; sense that made him heart do a backflip into his stomach.

 

Sighing in defeat, Dwight slowly trudged over to where Jake was propped up, and cautiously sat down next to him (Jake did not like people in his personal space without his permission, so he didn’t push it until Jake gave him his own separate cup of tea). The two sat in silence for a few moments, until Dwight found something to say. 

 

“Jake.” 

 

The man in question hummed and gave him a sideways glance while taking a sip.

 

“The Huntress has been here for, what…” Mentally counting, he continued. “Like, a month?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Dwight gave him a look. “And you’re already  _ getting down  _ with her?”

 

“Hey, listen-” Dwight did not fail to notice that slight wince that ran across Jake’s features as he propped himself up. “She technically came onto me. _Literally._ But just because she doesn’t speak very good English-”

 

“She can speak English?” The leader’s question was ignored with a wave of a hand. “Just because she likes to hunt humans, has the education level of a 5th grader, has absolutely no idea how to raise kids and is the actual embodiment of Mother Russia does not mean that she doesn’t know what a relationship is nor does that mean she doesn’t know how to  _ actually  _ have one _.  _ Which she does.”

 

Dwight just… stared, open-mouthed and catching Entity Brand flies and Jake’s seemingly simple explanation. His lips flopped around like a fish on a dock before deflating and accepting the explanation for what it was. He  _ wished  _ it could be that simple between him and Evan, but their relationship would always be too complicated for words to ever explain.

 

“Do you guys actually… y’know…” Dwight trailed off, hoping that Jake would get the message, but the narrow stare he got in return told him that he would have to elaborate further. “Do you two… like, show affection?”

 

“Well, we fuck-”

 

“No! No, I mean-” Wringing his hands, he tried to think of a good phrase to represent what he was going for. “Do you do things, like hold hands? No, no, that’s stupid, killers don’t hold hands, but-”

 

“I understand.” Jake looked off into the distance for a few moments, a contemplative look on his face. “I- we hunt together? She teaches me how to throw hatches at small animals, then we take them back to her cabin, skin them, smoke them, then eat- we usually have sex somewhere along those lines- then we lay down together and relax. Sometimes she just sings to me, sometimes she tries to translate her stories from Russian to English, other times we watch the rain or look at things around her place. Sometimes we have sex again-”

 

“Okay, okay, Jake, I get it, you two have a lot of sex.” Even though just thinking about the word  _ sex  _ usually made him flustered, found it in this situation to be funny, especially when he got a mental image of tiny Jake Park and the giant Huntress trying to figure out what position is the safest for his fellow survivor so that he couldn’t be crushed to death. 

 

“We don’t have sex _every time_ , but it’s not like you don’t, either.” Yet another sip was taken before Jake spoke back up. “No offense, but I know your sex life in here is _far better_ than what is was outside. Mine is, too.”

 

The sad part was  _ (or maybe the good part?)  _ that was true. Swirling his drink around, Dwight had never been a tea guy but he swallowed the herbal drink down so he didn’t waste his friend’s resources. They fell silent again, before Jake hummed, an action Dwight had noticed that the man did before he asked a prying question. “Do you and the Trapper do anything like that? I mean, I’m sure he doesn’t speak Russian-”

 

“Not really.”  _ The tea needed some sugar. _ “He lets me watch him fix his traps and stuff- usually cursing your name as he does so.” The  _ evil  _ chuckle he heard from the man beside him could only be described as  _ malevolent.  _ “Then he asks me if I want to do anything and if I do, then… well, _ we do _ , but if I don’t want to then he, we, uhhh… I don’t know, kinda just hang out like you said earlier? But not a lot of cuddling, or whatever. I usually just sit next to him and listen to him talk about his old life, or about stuff that happened here before we arrived. It’s actually really interesting.”

 

“But no cuddling?” The way Jake said it made it seem like a _crime_ that Dwight was denied the action. He doesn’t know how Jake’s eyes could be so slanted and squinty and _still_ see out of them enough to see that Dwight looked a bit downtrodden when he realized that he was missing out on the cuddles.

 

“…kinda makes sense.” At that, Dwight perked up, interested in what Jake had to say. “He’s from 1896, right?”

 

“That’s the last year he remembers definitely. What about it?”

 

“People were  _ horribly  _ homophobic back then. Much more traditional and religious, too. He probably either just doesn’t know what to do with another man, or he just doesn’t know how to be with other people at all. That’s not even taking into account all of the jumbled, convoluted mess that comes from a survivor and killer relationship.”

 

Dwight decided right then and there that Jake should talk more because he’s  _ good  _ at it. “Well…” Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, Dwight tried to wrap his mind around what he was just told and how to go about it. “I guess I could ask him what’s up. Try to sneak in a snuggle every now and then.”

 

The saboteur raised his cup up in the air in Dwight’s direction in approval of his idea before bringing it back down, the rim resting against his lips. “Do whatever you need to do. Just don’t go skipping back to the campfire and telling everybody how you two made sweet love no matter how much  _ some of us  _ may want to hear about it-”

 

And then he turned to look straight ahead, and took a small, audible sip of his tea. “But that’s none of my business.” And Dwight delivered an elbow to Jake’s shoulder- and also discovered that the hickeys weren’t just confined to his neck area.

 

                                              _______________

 

He had really meant to follow through with the conversation, but whenever Dwight got close enough to Evan to bring up anything even remotely close to any sort of emotions he either chicken out or something else completely out of their hands happened to ruin the moment.

 

At first, he had planned to spring into action within a week, which turned into a month, which turned into  _ several  _ months, and before he knew it Jake was informing him that it was roughly about his and the Huntresses’ one year anniversary together. That was shocking to Dwight, who had let the time and plenty of opportunities to further advance his relationship slip by with the seasons.

 

He and the typical loner actually got along better than he thought he would- Jake didn’t typically start conversations unless procted to or if he had something _really_ interesting to say, so in an odd way it was a good way for Dwight to practice talking to not only people in general, but to someone who could come off as standoff-ish. Jake never really made him feel unwanted unless Dwight came in at a bad time (which happened more than he cared to admit).

 

The saboteur gave out… decently good relationship advice, too. Of course, a thing between two men was different between a man and a woman, but it seems that Jake was versatile enough to dole out some good pointers either way. Namely calling Dwight out every now and them on him not taking the next step between him and the Trapper, and it seems that Jake’s anniversary has really stuck out in his mind, because he’s not letting it go this occasion like he usually does when Dwight starts gnawing on his nails (a habit Jake  _ demanded  _ that he’d not do in his presence).

 

“I’m trying not to be pushy-” The man preferred tea over alcohol, apparently. “But you’re just making yourself feel worse by not saying anything.”

 

“I’m trying, Jake!” Running a hand through his short hair, Dwight let out an exasperated gasp and took a sip of corn liquor that his lover in question gifted to him from his own private stash from the Hillbilly. He had always been a beer kind of guy, but this would do. “It’s all I can do to go sit by his leg and cling to it like a fucking cat!”

 

Cradling his cup in both hands in his lap, Dwight watched as shoulders shrugged and Jake hummed a high note. “Maybe he likes that.”

 

_ Oh, poor Dwight did not know what that meant.  _ “Wh-what? What does that mean? Likes what?”

 

“Some people like having and being… pets, I guess? It’s a kinky dom/sub thing I learned back in college and from Feng Min. I don’t really know how to explain it- but it’s a thing.” Dwight didn’t know what was more disturbing: that that actually _was_ a thing and it actually explained a little bit of what was going on, or that Jake didn’t have a disgusted look on his face when he talked about it. _God_ , was he really that dull that he was actually being considered by the Trapper as a “pet” and didn’t even realize it?

 

Probably, yeah. “Hey-” Dwight just thought of something horrible that he couldn’t get out of his head and now he had to ask Jake about it. “Do you and the Huntress do that sort of thing? I mean, we all call her bunny mom.”

 

At the look on Jake’s face, the leader wished he had one of those iPhones that Feng Min was always pulling out and taking pictures and videos with because it was the funniest and most disgruntled look he had ever seen cross the man’s face. “It’s called-” He swallowed the liquid in his mouth and spoke in a matter-of-factly tone of voice “-predator/prey dynamic, and no, it’s not the same thing.”

 

Dwight had actually opened his mouth to ask him what that meant, but giving the fact that it’s  _ Jake,  _ he’d figured he’d rather not know (very wise of you, he praised himself). They lapsed into silence for a few moments before Jake resumed speaking, wrapping the Russian blanket around him tighter for no reason other than being cold-natured. “You just need to speak up, Dwight. You have no problem yelling at Killers to get their attention, so I would think just having a conversation with the Trapper should be a piece of cake compared to everything else, right?”

 

A long, haggard sigh passed its way through Dwight’s lips before he could stop it, betraying how difficult it actually was for him to do something like that. “It’s not that I don’t think he’ll, like, not listen to me, I don’t know, he’s just… _so big_ and… _large_ and _huge_ and he keeps me safe and I don’t want to mess that up. I like how it is now, even though I want to take it further.”

 

Jake’s eyes comically widen and shifted back and forth after the lull in Dwight’s explanation before settling back onto the leader’s glasses with a fully serious stare. “...Dwight, I think I know what’s wrong.”

 

_ There’s something wrong? Of course, there’s always something wrong with me- _ he tried not to let his disappointment show. “What?”

 

“You don’t want things to change because you like things how they are-besides the fact you want a more emotionally-involved relationship.”

 

“That’s… what I just said, yes-”

 

Jake interrupted him again, and Dwight realized too late that he shouldn’t have let him. “You like how rough he treats you because you’re into that. You like being the small spoon, so to speak. You like how big he is compared to you because you’ve never been protected like he protects you- Dwight, you’re a kinky bastard.”

 

At the time, Dwight reflects, he remembers gaping like a fish at the realization, partly because suddenly all the strings in his life  _ connected _ and partly because it was  _ Jake  _ who said it with that gleam in his eyes that he knew all too well that showed just how  _ pleased  _ he was with himself in figuring that out and being the one to break it to him.

 

Dwight didn’t even try to deny it. He knew it was true, Jake knew it was true, everybody that knew about his and the Trapper’s relationship probably figured out it was true, too- he  _ was,  _ as Jake so delicately put it,  _ a kinky bastard. _

 

                                           _________________

 

So here he is now, quite a number of months later after the initial revelation, still twiddling his thumbs and trying to work up the courage to go and talk to Evan about everything. Just because he has confidence out  _ there,  _ in the Game, doesn’t mean he has it in his own personal relationships.

 

But he’s doing it  _ tonight _ , he  _ must _ , he tells himself. Mostly because Jake threatened to tell the new woman, Jane Romero, about all of his problems, and quote:  _ “Unleash the therapeutic wrath of Oprah on him”. _ And since he knew Jake was absolutely serious about that and that was the  _ last  _ thing Dwight wanted to happen, he swallowed the small reserve of corn liquor he had and went for it.

 

And that’s how he ended up standing in the corner of Evan’s personal shack, too scared to even come take his usual place by his leg or on his lap. Luckily for him, Evan eventually took notice of Dwight’s unusual actions and paused in the tinkering of his traps, setting his tools down on his table and twisting to look at the shadowy form of the human he had come tolerate more than anyone else.

 

“What?” He asked, loud and bluntly with a lit of aggravation to his voice because Evan was never one for a soft tone of speaking. It made Dwight’s knees tremble for multiple reasons all rolled into a nice emotional burrito.

 

“I…” He started out, but his voice gave way and he just stood there like a deer caught in headlights while he struggled to regain control over his vocal cords. “I want…”  _ Come on, Dwight! Don’t be a pussy!  _ “Iwanttotalk!” He rushed out, completely unintelligible, but he did it. He fucking did it, good job, Dwight, he probably couldn't understand what in the actual fuck you just said-

 

“What?” Evan asked again, this time less peeved and more genuinely curious in figuring out what Dwight just said. When he only received deceived noises from his survivor, he sighed loud enough to rattle Dwight’s spectacles, stood up, briskly strided over to where Dwight was lingering in the corner and grabbed his shoulders with both hands, leaning down to look directly into Dwight’s distressed eyes. 

 

“Dwight.” He tried to look away, but a hand under his chin forced him to look up, which only made the trembling in his knees move to his stomach. “What is it?”

 

His  _ Unnerving Presence  _ so close to him made it… actually easier to talk. Swallowing all of his fear and anxiety, Dwight mostly talked through his nose, but spoke slowly this time. “I want to talk.”

 

Evan made a noise in his chest that made Dwight’s fingers flex against his sides, and huffed hard enough against the metal mask on his face that the hot air filled Dwight’s lungs. “Is that what got yer knickers in a twist?”

 

Thankful that Evan understood, Dwight shakily nodded. A loud laugh from the monster in front of him would have made him jump high enough to hit the ceiling if he wasn’t being held by the large Killer. “Is that really it, eh? God’s teeth, I thought it was somethin’  _ truly  _ horrible, like ye had run off and eloped with Park or the likes of which. I don’t think my old heart could’ve took that.”

 

Even though he spent more time with Jake than he knew Evan would probably like, Dwight couldn’t help but softly laugh at that, easing the tension coursing though his body enough to where he felt as if he could breathe on his own again. “No, no, I wouldn’t do that- he’s with the Huntress, y’know. I don’t think even  _ I  _ could make him leave her, ha.”  _ As if he would go for the likes of me, anyways.  _

 

“And fer the longest time I thought Anna just didn’t like men. Turns out she just likes little men.” Even though Dwight couldn’t see Evan’s eyes through his metal mask, he could’ve swore he was winking at him, but Dwight never got a chance to find out before Evan had reared back to his full height, and guided Dwight back to his normal place beside the Trapper’s chair- only this time when Evan sat down, he pulled Dwight into his lap.

 

Dwight didn’t sit in his lap often, but he _loved_ it. “Now, I know ya, Dwight.” Evan began, wrapping an arm around the small of Dwight’s back and the other hand patting his smaller thigh. “You didn’t just come here to talk about Park and Anna.”

 

And here came the anxiety bubbling up his throat like a chunk of phlegm again. “Yeah.” Dwight lamented, shifting awkwardly on Evan’s leg to maybe diffuse some of the nervous energy singing through him. It didn’t really work, so he shoved one of his fingers back into his mouth and gnawed on his nails like it was covered in ranch dressing. “I, uhhhh…”  _ Just go ahead and say it, he’s not going to wait all day!  _ “I wanted- wanted to, uhhh… talk to you?”

 

“Mmmmhmmm.” Evan hummed, and Dwight mentally slapped himself for reiterating what he said earlier. “I want to talk to you...” He paused again, taking in a deep breath and focusing his thoughts. “...about us. Like,  _ what  _ we are… and stuff. And… how we both feel about this. Like emotionally.”

 

The Trapper listened as Dwight’s voice faded into the abyss, drumming his fingers against the quivering muscles of his survivor’s thigh as he processed what he was being told. Emotions were not Evan’s strongpoint.  _ At all. _ The Doctor kindly diagnosed him as some sort of “sociopath” for that reason, but until he saw the man’s medical license, all of that was absolute hogwash to him.

 

But if Dwight wanted to talk about  _ feelings  _ and  _ emotions _ … well, he could oblige him this one time. “That’s outta my league, lad.” Shaking his head, he stopped tapping on Dwight’s leg to remove his mask, gingerly laying the ornate covering on the work table in front of him. “But since it’s  _ you _ -” A quick squeeze of Dwight rear end had him making one of those  _ delicious  _ squeaking sounds that made Evan smile. “I’ll try m’best.”

 

Evan saying that he would at least  _ try  _ made his heart do somersaults in his chest, and made Dwight feel instantly a little bit better, bringing back some of the blood that had felt his face feeling cold and clammy with that  _ rude  _ butt pinch, as well.

 

“Right.” Dwight said- and suddenly, he completely forgot what he had rehearsed to say. “Uhhh.”  _ Think, Dwight!  _ “I want to know, like… if you care about me and stuff. I mean, clearly you do! But… how much?”

 

He saw Evan’s lips pinched together as if he was just asked by a little kid where babies come from and Dwight couldn’t help but  _ deflate _ , knowing that he had just asked something Evan clearly didn’t like. He tried to backtrack even though he knew he was just going to dig himself an even bigger Dwight-sized dumbass survivor hole. 

 

“Well, I know you care, but, I mean, I kinda want you to…  _ say it? _ Not like every waking moment and stuff, but… I guess I just want to be closer to you than just sitting by your leg or just on your lap. You make me feel good but I guess I want you to make me feel loved? I know I told you I didn’t get much love from my family and I act like a love-deprived puppy sometimes but I just really want you to tell me how much you care about me or maybe praise me and tell me all the things you like about me even though I know you’re not really...like... that- oh, man, I’m just rambling on, aren’t I, haha?” Wringing his hands together, Dwight tried to play off his obvious lack of self-esteem with a depressed-sounding chuckle at the end.

 

All it did was make Evan raise his non-existent eyebrows at him. “Ye done, pet?”

 

_ Pet, he called him pet and Dwight liked that shit-  _ “Un-unless you want me to ramble on again, then yeah, I’m done.”

 

Evan nodded, and before any more words were spoken, Dwight was raised off of the leg he was perched on, lifted up like a doll, and was seated on the edge of the work table, both of Evan’s hands lingering on his thighs for a few seconds too long to be innocent before they slowly glided up and down Dwight’s arms until they held his wrists at his sides. “Ye wanna know what I feel?”

 

Even though he’s not entirely sure he does, Dwight nods and Evan continues after clearing his throat. “I feel a  _ great  _ urge to take care of ya- in a way.”

 

As infallible as the Trapper appeared to be, the topic of  _ emotions  _ has taken him down a few pegs, making him seem almost  _ human  _ to the leader. “O’course, I can’t really take care of ya when I’m huntin’ ye and yer friends down.”

 

“The Entity makes you do that.” Dwight supplemented, and the grip on his wrists tighten briefly in response. “Yes, they do, and there’s very little I can do about that. You remember what I’ve said about other killers havin’ survivors?”

 

Recalling the few conversations where he was carefully explained why some killers were, as Evan put it  _ “allowed to be with certain survivors in certain ways” _ , Dwight acknowledged the fact. He was rewarded with another light squeeze (by Evan’s standards), and the Trapper carried on. “They don’t just  _ get  _ them fer doin’ a good job or fer bein’ here the longest. They  _ both  _ get to be together doin’... whatever they wanna do because it’s a  _ mutual  _ thing. The Entity is a cruel mistress in death, blood an’ gore, but even it has limits, I gather. It feeds off emotions; some more than others, I’d reck’n.”

 

Emotions were all he felt like he had at some point, so the Entity must get a real good meal out of him. It was kinda weird, if Evan was right, that a killer and survivor would  _ want  _ to be together for the Entity to allow it. He would think that It would get more enjoyment out of just throwing them together and feeding out of whatever horrible outcome happened. It seemed just… anti-Entity. He wondered just how many had done what he and Evan had done, or what Jake and the Huntress had done-  _ if there were others with Evan before.  _ That thought was a new and startling one, one that filled him with insignificance and the pricklings of jealousy.

 

“Have you…” Dwight had never really considered asking about if there were others before him, but now that the thought has presented itself, he can’t let it go, voice weak sounding and pathetic. “Did you have anyone like me before?” 

  
  


“...I can honestly say, there hasn’t been anyone like  _ you  _ before.” The soft rumbling of laughter from Evan’s barrel chest quelling his buzzing for the moment, but the pause afterwards make him worrisome. “But…” A long sigh followed the break. “There was one other. Long ago. I doubt ye’ve met him, but it was Vigo.”

 

“Vigo?” He asked, confused about the man in general since he has only read bits and pieces about him from old journals and wild experiment papers and several of their offerings. “I didn’t know you knew Vigo, I didn’t know if he even really existed! Much less you… you two were-”

 

“Not at first, no, we weren’t.” At Dwight’s raised eyebrows, the Killer elaborated. “Back then, we didn’t know as much about the Entity and the likes as we do now. Vigo was the first survivor that I met that wasn’t just runnin’ around like a headless chicken. That interested me, and we had a mutual curiosity in each other: that’s how it started.”

 

“How it started?” A million questions swirled around, racing in Dwight’s mind with countless answers popping up left and right that he needed answered  _ right now.  _ “Wait- I thought Vigo was still around? I- we got his clothes during the Blight season-”

 

“I promised Vigo I’d keep it a secret as to  _ why  _ he did all of that, so I’m afraid I can’t tell ye about it. But, yes, that’s how it started. He loved to experiment on anythin’ he could get his hands on, and one time that just so happened to be me. Vigo was an older bachelor like meself- unlike you, so we didn’t fuck as often as we do, but we did on a regular schedule.”

 

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. Dwight felt as if he was just _seconds_ after that revelation; as if he was just a replacement after Vigo. The logical part of his brain knew that wasn’t the truth, knew that the Trapper _didn’t_ do replacements, but the ethos part of his consciousness ran wild and out the window, along with any self-esteem he might’ve had. “So-”

 

“So- you.” Abruptly standing up, Dwight was greeted with a thick, brown apron in his face, covering the large chest of the monster who had stood up to place a kiss on the crown of Dwight’s head, and to cup his chin and tilt his head back to gaze firmly into his eyes again. “I wanted  _ you. _ I still want ya. Remember what I said, Dwight? It’s a  _ mutual thing. _ I want ya the same way that ye want me back. Now love: I don’t know if I can love in the way ya want me to. I’ve been so corrupted by the Entity that not all of me mental gears are turnin’ the same way as they were before, so to speak.”

 

Dwight held his breath for what came next, whether rejection or, heaven forbid,  _ acceptance. _ “I love ya in my own way. I don’t know if that’s what ya want, but that’s all I can offer beside meself.” He’d take it (he’d take  _ anything,  _ that’s how attention-starved he was).

 

“Thank you.” He said, almost immediately after he was sure Evan had stopped speaking, and gave him a full on hug, wrapping as much of his arms as he could around Evan’s large frame to show just how  _ much  _ that little admission meant to him. “I understand.” He mumbled into his metal-smelling apron, chest and head feeling lighter than it has been in a while, like he was about to start rising like a balloon. “We’re all flawed. We all love differently. Just… thank you for having me.” He’s not even sure if the killer can hear him, but he hangs on either way, even when large, calloused hands try to remove his hands from around Evan’s middle.

 

“Dwight?” When he got no answer other than miniscule nails clinging harder, he stopped short of forcibly removing Dwight from his person for the sole reason that he found Dwight  _ cute  _ in this position. So he tried a different approach. “Love.” The man’s brown eyes picked up almost instantaneously, looking up at the heavily scarred behemoth that he was so attached to, a sheepish look coming over his face and the small leader started to retract himself.

 

“Sorry.” Dwight apologize, backing up and collecting himself. “You just mean a lot to me, and-”

 

“It’s mutual, pet.”  _ Innocent. _

 

Evan had meant for that name to be innocent. He really did, but for the first time, he really looked at Dwight when he said it, eye-to-eye and he saw a vague look of _happiness_ glaze over his eyes when the affectionate term was bestowed upon him. He may be terrible with touchy-feely stuff, but he could recognize _that_ look.

 

Dwight wanted him, truly. The Entity, for once, had made a good decision for him. And Evan took advantage of the good decision, and leaned down, so he was kissing the skin of Dwight’s slightly perspiring forehead with a lingering press of lips, then onto the bridge of his nose, then down to meet Dwight’s own lips. Chatse at first, but quickly gaining passion and fervor as lips came to mold together perfectly.

 

Dwight slumped against the Killer, tightening and reaffirming his hold around Evan as he returned the passionate kiss that was currently enveloping his headspace. Tongues did not stay in their respective mouths for long, and Dwight quickly found that his mouth was being plundered by Evan’s long and thick tongue, mimicking actions and movements that Dwight wanted to be happening at a  _ lower  _ level than what is was currently.

 

Straightening his back as much as he could, the only pizza delivery man around moved his arms up to grasp at Evan’s shoulders, clinging to them like a koala in a bamboo tree while his mouth was assaulted and probed by a savory muscle that made his stomach shake with arousal and longing. He felt already  _ desperate  _ for  _ more _ , wanted to be taken apart by this monster in all ways, wanted Evan to just  _ devour  _ him and make him his forever.

 

“Hmmm.” With a noise that made his lips vibrate, Evan pulled away from him to look him up and down like he was a piece of meat. “I want to  _ fuck  _ you.” The word _ “fuck”  _ emphasised to show his intentions behind tearing the buttons off of Dwight’s office shirt in his haste to remove the offending article of clothing. “If ye don’t, say it now-”

 

Violently shaking his head, _“Take me.”_ was all Dwight found the strength and air to muster before he was being kissed again, being drowned in soot, earth, and Evan, that he would be all too happy to never come up from. And he hoped he never would have to come away from the bliss he was feeling right now, smushed inbetween Evan’s thick and strong arms, hands roaming and being kissed senseless with the alluring promise of more to come.

 

It was internally  _ pathetic  _ how quickly he was getting aroused, though isn’t that what he had hoped for? Soft, sweet love-making after spilling all of his feelings like guts on the ground? Rather, he had hoped for some semblance of self-control so he could seem at least somewhat put together. But he was failing miserably-  _ like always. _

 

A whimper of surrender bubbled out of Dwight’s throat as large, blood and fire-stained hands caressed and squeezed his chest, letting himself be manipulated as if he had large breasts to fondle- he really didn’t have much of a chest at all; nothing like David King’s, at least. It made him feel self-conscious, that thought, that he was weak and scrawny where he didn’t need to be and slightly chubby in areas that showed his diet of pizza and appetizers. 

 

Calloused thumb pads rubbed in large, encompassing circles around his nipples, causing his back to arch involuntarily into the pleasurable actions that he was being subjected to. Foreplay was great and all, but Dwight’s stomach was taunt with need _ ,  _ his ass  _ ached  _ to have the outline of the erection he saw hiding beneath a heavy layer of apron and denim inside of him more than he ever thought he could want something in his life.

 

Sometimes, he thinks that if he had a choice between escaping and leaving Evan behind or staying with him forever, Dwight doesn’t know if he can bring himself to knowingly give up the sex him and the Trapper had. “Please.” Hoarse already for no reason, a hand goes down to press upon his own bulge, displaying to Evan just how needy he was. “I’m so hard already, please.” Grinding into his own hand, he hoped Evan would get the message and  _ hurry up already! _

 

But  _ the bastard stopped _ , and moved his hand away from his crotch and placed back on the table _. _ “Ah, no, pet, ye said ye wanted me to show me love for ya, and that’s what yer gonna get.” Then he went back to thumbing his nipples slower than before, leaning down and kissing him to match the pace his hands were setting with no regard at all for how Dwight was bouncing on the edge of the wooden piece of furniture.

 

Despite how wonderful the kiss was, Dwight shook his head vigorously and pulled away from his partner before scooting as close to the edge as he could without falling off, and pressed his crotch into the thick denim of the Trapper’s thigh as hard as he could and grinded against it. “ _ I want you now.”  _ He emphasized with a huff and feeling a small surge of victory when his knee brushed up against Evan’s erection and felt it  _ jump _ at his words.

 

Maybe the old man wasn’t as resilient against Dwight’s charm as he thought before.  _ Dash it all _ . “Fine.” Evan hated admitting defeat or giving in, but he couldn’t resist Dwight when he was rutting against his leg like a bitch in heat. “But I’m gettin’ ya good ‘n ready ‘fore I take ya. Stand up and turn around.”

 

The firmness in his voice had Dwight complying immediately, nearly doubling over as his head rushed from how fast he leapt to his feet and twisted around. He fumbled for his belt, giving himself rope burn as he bent and pulled it one way and another in his haste to pull down his slacks and expose himself to the warming spring air, goosebumps forming and racing across his exposed flesh as he braced his hands on the table and presented himself to the monster behind him that he trusted with his life.

 

Most of his survivor friends would call him crazy for “trusting” any killer, even if romantically involved with them, and even though Dwight has always tried to fit in with everyone else, he found that in this instance, he didn’t give a damn about what the others would think about this. 

 

Moans of pleasure filled their space as a hand came down hard on his cheeks as a warming slap, Dwight knowing all too well what that meant: extensive assplay. The man didn’t think he could take much more teasing, especially not when he looked down at his dripping cock and felt it  _ throb  _ painfully at just the one slap. 

 

A finger slipping inbetween the crevice of his ass forced his head to jerk back up, panting into the sky before sneaking a quick peek at Evan looming over him, head down and intensely studying his own ministrations and how Dwight squirmed and was already pushing back into his touch. Their eyes met for a moment before Dwight felt so  _ small  _ that he had to look away, to avoid being overwhelmed by the  _ size  _ of the goliath giving him intense spikes of arousal.

 

The finger (felt like a slimmer ring finger) just  _ barely  _ poked its way past his tight ring of muscles, just enough that Dwight felt his muscles stretch and give way to the intrusion, but not with the lingering burning sensation that came with penetration that he had come to love. He remembers, dimly, before all of this in the outside world, that he would feel full with just two of his fingers  _ stuffed  _ inside of himself- now he feels as if the only thing that would even fill him up completely would be Evan’s cock, which was so big it should have its own mailing address for Dwight to deliver pizza to.

 

The leader automatically pushed back on Evan’s finger with his head thrown back and lips parted, heavily breathing through his nose as he heard the Killer curse loudly behind him. “Oh,  _ God- _ ” He whined out, his ever-present self-consciousness evaporating with every backwards thrust he made, revealing the true whorish nature of one Dwight Fairfield that was usually lying dormant under lock and key. “I want it.” He muttered out loud, softly at first but getting louder and louder as more of Evan’s finger slowly, ever so slowly, sank into him. “I want it, I want  _ you _ , you’re so big, I want y-  _ guhck _ !” 

 

His ramblings were so thankfully cut off mid-stream by two fingers getting shoved into his mouth and silencing any further words. Not that he complaining- on the contrary, he _loved_ any part of Evan’s body inside of his own. The two digits in his mouth sisscorsed his lips apart, making drool spill down his chin and chest, soaking the table a dark navy blue color inbetween his splayed hands unsteadily holding himself up.

 

The finger in his ass pushed its way up to the first knuckle before it halted, which was still in plenty far enough to give Dwight’s prostate a healthy tickle whenever Evan wanted to garner such a reaction from his little quivering survivor. Every calloused brush and scrape made the leader’s whimpers just a little bit louder, made him push back just a little bit harder and loosened him up just that little extra bit so that Evan could kneel and rock forward, pressing his tongue in the man’s sphincter alongside his finger. 

 

It was one of Dwight’s favorite things for him to do, and it showed. 

 

If he didn't have the two fingers in his mouth muffling his noises, Dwight wouldn't have been sure he could’ve stopped himself from letting out an embarrassing pig-like squeal as the wet muscle of Evan’s large tongue worked below to open him up further. Toes curling in his shoes, Dwight threw his head back and moaned around the digits in his mouth, gag reflex kicking in when his teeth came together in an automatic hiss at the burning sensation of being stretched, Evan’s fingers pressing down his throat to made him stop from trying to bite a hole in his hand.

 

_ “MMMpffhh!”  _ His cock throbbing and dripping with ache and want, Dwight reached down to relieve some of the building pressure he felt at the base of his spine, stroking himself at first with slow, measured strokes but quickly starting to lose his self-control and speeding up until a hard bite into the globe of his asscheck and a growl of warning stopped him. He forced himself to leave his dick dangling freely in the air, slapping his hand back on the table and gripping the edge so hard his knuckle joints cracked and turned chalk white. It physically pained him to do so, but he already felt  _ so close  _ to the edge that he knew it was for the better.

 

And suddenly, as if he was just plunged into the coldest waters on Earth, everything left him, fingers and tongues and warmth included, and Dwight was spun around, sending spit from his now-open mouth spinning with him. Glasses knocked slightly askew, Dwight had trouble making out every detail of his lover, but he could clearly tell that Evan was now taking a seat with his legs purposefully splayed open, and the hand that was in his mouth beckoning him forward to kneel inbetween that newly created space.

 

A hard tremble nearly had Dwight’s knees buckling when he figured out what these latest turn of events meant, so he  _ threw himself  _ at the Trapper’s feet and trembly hands dove for the heavy zipper that covered what he wanted  _ most. _ If Dwight’s mouth had been watering at Evan’s fingers before, the anticipation of sucking Evan’s cock had the floodgates of his mouth opening, and Dwight had to sniffle a few times to keep himself from looking like a doped-up mental patient.

 

He was so caught up with trying to claw his way to Evan’s dick that Dwight completely missed the saliva-slicked hand moving around his body and pressing inside of him all at once. It hurt and felt so  _ good  _ at the same time, Dwight’s body simultaneously tried to push back against and pull away- which only made him seem like he was contorting as a human centipede.

 

Evan, seeing how much trouble Dwight was having with just staying in one place (much less how much trouble he was having undoing his pants), took it upon himself to assist Dwight in such a complicated task and helped to steady Dwight’s hands enough to undo his belt and pull down his zipper, allowing the confined organ to spring free and slap against the side of Dwight’s face. The survivor’s eyes lit up like fireworks once it was presented to him, and Dwight wasted no time in reacquainting himself with the  _ meat  _ presented before him.

 

“Oh, God…” Dwight whispered out, swallowing hard as he pressed red lips to the underside of Evan’s dick, letting his tongue eagerly poke out and swipe up and down, making sure to catch his tongue along every single ridge and vein he came across. The salty taste of Evan’s precome filled his senses, and Dwight tilted his head to the side and leaned forward, enjoying the full length of Evan’s hot and heaviness making its mark on his cheek from how it  _ seared  _ his skin.

 

“Enjoyin’ yerself, little pet?” Evan crooned, spreading Dwight open with slow, deliberate thrusts with one hand while the other slid up to entangle in his dark locks, holding the man closer to his genitals as if there was any chance of Dwight pulling away.

 

There was no way in hell that Dwight would just get up and walk away from  _ this.  _ He nodded, pressing a kiss to the sensitive strip of skin that connected the large shaft to the bulbous head before pulling back and looking directly into the giant’s eyes while he attempted to wrap a hand around the base. He found that he couldn’t quite do it, his fingers not quite touching his thumb and that only excited him further. “I love how big you are.”

 

The Killer hummed, giving Dwight’s hair a tug of encouragement backwards before moving his hand to grip the base of his dick, tilting it forward to rub the wet tip against Dwight’s parted mouth. “I know ye do. Come on, now- suck it. Ya know where it’s goin’- don’ wanna hurt ya, now.”

 

Dwight didn’t need to be told twice- hell, he didn’t even need to be told once. Raising up so that his mouth was hovering over the tip, the smaller of the two immediately followed orders, opening his mouth as wide as he could and just  _ barely  _ enveloping the engorged tip, but not without his teeth scraping skin. But Evan had never told Dwight that that was uncomfortable or implied otherwise, so Dwight bobbed his head in a slow, gentle rhythm in tandem with the fingers moving in and out of his ass- and for a few moments, he fell into a peaceful lull of slow movements that melted away his self-consciousness.

 

That is, until, the Killer decided that Dwight was either going too slow or too engrossed and quiet for his liking and delivered a synchronized decisive strike to his prostate and an aborted thrust of his hips into Dwight’s mouth. If Evan hadn’t switched his hold back to Dwight’s hair, he’s not sure if Dwight would have remained upright with how hard his body jerked both ways; ass jerking into the air and pushing back against his hand and Dwight rearing back his head to move away from the gagging reflex his thrust had triggered.

 

And even though he had jerked away, Dwight didn’t want all of this to  _ stop _ . A few more hollowing of his cheeks and Dwight was allowed to breathe, the hand on his hair loosening and allowing him to pull back. He whimpered audibly with a swallow and shallow breaths, wiggling his ass as Evan spread his fingers inside of him, pushing and stretching him to his limits. “I need you inside of me.” Whispering before he gives Evan’s cock another go, going down as far as he could until the large head hits the back of his throat and blocks off his airways and he’s forced to resurface with a dying man’s inhale. “I want your big dick in me now, please-”.

 

“Please? Just one please, little pet? Tsk: you can give more than that.” Dwight whines as the fingers inside of him  _ twists _ in a sudden movement that has his thighs clenching together, desperate to give his neglected erection any sort of friction, any sort of relief until he can get what he truly wants. Evan can be  _ ruthless  _ with his teasing, and Dwight can’t take much more of this- not when his prostate is given several short, hard thrusts that had his eyes unfocusing underneath his glasses and stars dancing across his vision.

 

“Please!”  _ Evan wants more begging? Dwight has no qualms about that.  _ “Please, you’re so big and I need it, please  _ please _ , Evan,  _ pleas- _ ” Dwight’s ramblings of adjuring were cut off when his head was forced back onto the dick he was so  _ greedy  _ for, his jaw pried open and his head held down as the seconds ticked by and his oxygen supply decreased. Eyes rolling back beneath his eyelids, Dwight could only keen for air until he was released, lungs burning and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

 

His sight blurry and unfocused, Dwight’s head was tilted back to gaze up at Evan, and heard the monster hummed as if he was pleased with what he saw. “That’ll do.” Those two words got Dwight  _ excited _ , especially when Evan helped him to his feet and pushed his backwards until he was laying on his back on top of the work table, his lover’s finger somehow still inside of him through all of the moving and shifting around.

 

His breathing picked up to near hyperventilating levels as Evan stepped inbetween his spread and held open legs, chest heaving and diaphragm working hard to keep up with his level of lust that was burning through his body and soul that made him think that he might accidently spontaneously combust from how  _ hot  _ he felt.

 

He didn’t think he could feel any more aflame until Evan just… flopped his dick on top of his, like he was comparing it to his average, meager member or maybe even sizing up how far up he could go inside him if his stomach was hollow. Dwight was confused as to what Evan was actually doing until he spoke in that gruff, treble voice that washed over him.

 

“Th’ Entity must’ve given yer ass stretchin’ abilities cause I don’t know how ye take me otherwise.”  _ Oh.  _ His statement felt as if it sent a sonic shockwave through his body, his muscles quivering and twitching particularly in his lower stomach and his ass clenched around the fingers still inside of him right before they were removed in favor of guiding his massive erection to Dwight’s entrance, pressing hard but not entering  _ just yet _ , looking at Dwight one final time to meet his eyes to confirm that he had permission to spear him.

 

Dwight wiggled his hips, squeezing his thighs around where they were slung on Evan’s upper arms, and spoke with a rough sound of “Yes!” that devolved into a low moan as he was penetrated further. He felt as if he was being filled fuller than any normal human could possibly ever could: Evan had told him once that he wanted to make sure he  _ ruined  _ him for anybody else-  _ mission accomplished _ , Dwight conceded.

 

It hurt and stung like hell, yes, and if this realm abided by normal laws of psychics Dwight’s not sure if this intercourse would’ve been possible at all, but it felt so wonderful that if he hadn’t been choking the life out of his own dick, he’s sure he would’ve came as Evan’s tip squeezed its way past his prostate. The ex-pizza delivery man’s mouth fell open as his skull thumped against the blue wood supporting him, gasping for breath and half-started sentences spilling from his throat.

 

“Aahhhn… fuck, you’re so… Evan!” Back arching as the Trapper slid deeper and deeper inside of him until he had buried himself halfway before retreating. The sharp roll fo Evan’s hips against his ass as he slid back inside had Dwight reeling, mumbling about how good he felt under his breath that grew louder with every repeating motion Evan did with his hips until he paused when he was fully hilted inside of Dwight.

 

Writhing helplessly, the leader’s mind briefly drifted back to that long ago conversation he had with Jake about how he wanted to feel like a pet; small and protected. And for the first time in his life, Dwight fully understood and believed what that meant, and he found himself so unbelievably  _ happy  _ to stay that way- to be in this position for the rest of eternity.

 

“Evan.” Dwight reached out for him, not knowing what else to do with his hands other than to reach out and touch him, running his own scarred fingers down the monster’s  _ massive  _ barrel chest, avoiding the sharp pricks of metal that poked shyly out of his skin and the large scars that littered his chest. One hand wasn’t enough, so he threw his other hand up there, partly to balance himself as Evan started moving again, this time with increasing force that cause the work table to creak under their actions.

 

Evan stared at him, and Dwight blurted out probably the stupidest thing he could’ve said. “I love you.” It was an instant mood dropper for him despite his ass currently being split in two, and his mind began to crowd with the negative thoughts fo  _ how could you have said something like that? Don’t you remember the conversation you just had before all of this? He doesn’t love you the way you want him to, you dumb fuck; why can’t you just accept that and that no one will ever love you like that- _

 

His thoughts (and oxygen) were suddenly cut off when Evan pressed his entire weight onto him with crushing his bones, and locked lips with him in a hot and fiery kiss that spoke volumes to the passion between them and nearly knocked Dwight senseless. When they parted for air, Dwight was granted with the sight of the monster’s intense brown eyes that were almost the same color as it staring right into his soul, and Evan’s scarred lips parted to speak:

 

“Y’know… I love ye, too, little pet.”

 

Dwight knew what that meant, knew that it was the most and best he was going to get, and he was content with that knowing the fact that he probably wouldn’t ever get anything better than this. With his mouth hanging open like a freshly popped Reverse Bear Trap, Dwight initiated the kiss this time, intermingling his tongue with his lovers while his legs were pushed back and up to be held flush against his chest, and Evan picked up the pace this time, fully fucking him.

 

The kind of fucking that left Dwight’s brain scrambled afterwards and the kind that he desperately needed. His eyes rolling back in his head for the second time, Dwight was reduced to making simple gurgling sounds that were overshadowed by Evan’s loud grunts of pleasure as he carved his path inside of him. His blunt and chewed nails moved from Evan’s chest to his biceps, clawing and hanging on like a cat while he rode the ride of his life.

 

A sudden hilting and grinding had Dwight crying out loudly, his body arching and contorting in unbearable sensations that ha dhim looking down to see the clear visible outline of Evan’s cock inside of him bulging though his lower stomach. The monster’s eyes followed his own, chuckling loudly in amusement and pride at what he saw. “Feelin’  _ full,  _ pet?”

 

Unconsciously nodding in agreement, Dwight was struggling to remain conscious but managed to croak out a “Yeah.” 

 

“Good.” He heard Evan speak distantly with an echo, as if from another room even though he was still on top of him, fucking him hard, fast, and into oblivion, deeper and deeper into the void with every thrust. “That’s how ye should be.”

 

_ That’s how you should be.  _ God, has anything hotter ever been said? It must’ve showed on his face how much that simple statement got him hotter than he already was what with Evan chuckling while still staring at his face- Dwight usually would be appalled, but right now he didn’t care about anything other than chasing his own end that he felt quickly approaching. 

 

Increasingly frenzied to finish, he released his death grip on one of Evan’s arms to tug and paw at his own dick in a hardly acceptable and pleasurable way, but any little thing that tip him over at this point, Dwight was willing to do. Moaning loudly, Dwight mustered up enough sense to pick his head up and convince his vocal chords to work. “Evan, you’re too b-big, ‘m gonna come.”

 

If possible, he felt Evan lean and press even harder over him, the monster’s pace picking up and starting to unravel in it’s preciseness and accuracy. “Go ‘head, little pet. Do it.”

 

“Oh  _ God, oh God oh Jesus Christ oh fucking God help me oh- fuuck, Evan!” _ If there was another God in this universe other than the Entity, they sure did make an appearance to save his pathetic self because that orgasm killed him otherwise. His eyes slammed shut and everything became really fuzzy sounding and muffled, like he had stuck his head inside an entire pillow and all he could really feel was the rhythmic clenching of his own ass around Evan’s cock, electric impulses decimating his nervous system worse than any electric shocks the Doctor could administer to him.

 

Dwight floats in his headspace for what feels like forever (even though it’s at most half a minute) before he dimly but strikingly feels Evan come to his own end inside of him, and unloads pump after pump of warm cum inside of him, pervading and filling up his insides farther than any normal person could have ever hoped to achieve, making his ass and side feel comfortably warm and full with a dizzying feeling in his ears and head.

 

It actually puts him to sleep for a few minutes before he’s being shuffled around and carried like a infant onto something softer than the table, and a blanket that’s meant to soothe him actuallys clears his foggy senses. Pushing his glasses back onto his face from where they had almost fallen off, Dwight sees the still maskless Evan, with his softening dick stuffed back into his pants but still seeable through the open zipper, throwing the heaviest blanket that they had over him before ruffling his hair and leaving a parting smooch on his sweaty locks. He turns around to where his mask lays on the table and fastens it back on his face with ease before sitting in his chair.

 

  
“Alright?” At first, Dwight’s not aware that the question is directed at him until it’s repeated louder than before. He pokes his head out from where it’s buried beneath the blanket and nods, not trusting to use his decidedly ruined voice for now. “Good.” The Trapper responds, picking up a few tools and tinkering with the traps that had been hurriedly pushed to the side to make way for their sexual activities earlier for a few minutes while Dwight watches with clearing vision.

 

This isn’t odd or out of the ordinary: usually one of them is called away not soon after, particularly the Trapper, since he’s the longest running Killer, he’s the one usually called to hunt. But today… Dwight wants some cuddles, and with a boost of confidence and strength, he raises himself up, propped up on one arm, and calls out to Evan.

 

“Can you… c-come lay with me?” No hurt in asking, right? But it’s never that simple for Dwight, or between them for that matter, and the instant it comes out of his mouth he just wants to crawl under the sheets and not ever come out-

 

A heavy, gritty sigh fills his ears along with the scraping of metal and a chair, making his heart leap and do somersaults right into his emotions as Evan approaches and sits on the floor beside him, taking his slow time and grunting in pain when his bad knee protests the action. “Fine. But ye know I’ll have to leave soon.” 

 

“That’s fine.” Laying his head against Evan’s thigh, Dwight would take what he could get, the small victories that he was allowed to have and cherish them in the moment and for as long as he could afterwards. In the moment, nothing else mattered- not the soreness that’s going to kill him when he tries to run away, not the  _ ridiculous  _ amount of come that leaking onto the already dingy mattress beneath him, not how much he has to tell himself that this is all okay and that he isn’t weird for only wanting a dick inside of him from a murdering Killer that hunts him and his friends down more often than not to feed and appease the spider-God in the sky with an insatiable hunger for human suffering and blood.

 

_ He’ll think about how fucked he is later _ , Dwight promises himself as he drifts off to an Entity-induced sleep, because for right now, he just wants to bask in the Trapper’s limited affection that he can show and how it feeds his love-starved mind and soul like a third-world village. It’s all he knows he’s going to get, after all. But it’s more than what he ever got in the outside world, and that, internally, validates his actions, even though people like Jane Romero could spend the next fifty seasons explains why it’s not.

 

But he don’t see her getting the massive dick he’s getting, so she doesn’t have to right to speak about how his and the Trapper’s relationship is anything but acceptable.


End file.
